


324. cold whispers

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [50]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helena! Sarah! Snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	324. cold whispers

There’s snow falling outside the house, and inside the house Helena is very slowly and carefully putting on all of her winter gear. The shirt is from Alison and the sweater is from Sarah and the other sweater is from Missus S and the outer jacket is from Donnie and the hat is from Alison (she knitted it) and the pants are hers, she bought them, and the boots are Alison’s. 

The mittens are hers. She bought them also. They’re bright yellow, and they have pom-poms on them. She wiggles her hands to watch them bobble. She grins.

The door bangs open.

“ _Hey_ ,” says Sarah, dressed in layers of black and grey, “you comin’ or what?”

Helena wiggles her hands at Sarah. The pom-poms waggle happily. Sarah makes a face that simultaneously conveys amusement, horror, eye-rolling, love, scorn, and impatience. Helena loves her! She loves Sarah, and Sarah’s stupid hat. (Alison knitted it also.) (Alison was in a bad mood that day.) (Helena isn’t supposed to say, but there’s a mean word knitted into one of the rows.) She adjusts her own (less stupid) hat and waddles in the direction of the door.

“You look like a marshmallow,” Sarah says, leaning against the door and watching her progress.

“I feel like a marshmallow,” Helena says solemnly. “Much...” she gestures, ineffectively. “Roundness.”

“Yeah, lot of that,” Sarah says, and then Helena’s outside and she forgets to keep talking.

The snow! The snow. Helena has seen snow, of course she has, dirty grey snow in Ukraine and snow melting on the farm and hushed whisper-snow in the woods and snow other places, in-between places, snow seen through van windows and blurred while running. But all this snow is white and unmarked and fluffy -- like a movie you’d see on TV, one where everyone is happy and all of your problems can be solved in less than one afternoon. Helena likes movies like that. She makes Alison record them for her; when she comes into town she watches them, one after the other.

But now she doesn’t need them, because she has this. All this snow, and all of it hers.

So she falls backward into it. Whumph. 

A startled laugh bursts out of Sarah’s throat and she crunches over through the snow, stands over Helena. “You alright there, meathead?”

“Shh,” Helena hisses. “Snow angels.” She sets out with great determination to make one.

“God, you’re weird,” Sarah says helplessly. Her eyebrows are raised; she watches Helena make her angel, doesn’t get down on the ground and make one too. But that’s fine. Helena could make a million of them, all of them connected, none of them alone.

For now she only makes the one and then she holds up her mitten-hands demandingly. Sarah sigh-laughs and pulls her up. “You’ve got snow on you,” she says.

“Yes,” Helena says seriously. “I know.” She shakes her head like a dog and snow flies everywhere. Mostly on Sarah.

“ _Oi_ ,” Sarah says, and Helena can’t help it: she laughs. Sarah looks so offended with snow in her hair, and Helena scoops up snow from the ground and throws it at her. It isn’t really a snowball. But if Sarah asks Helena can just say she doesn’t know how to make one -- which is true! No one taught her. Very sad. 

But Sarah doesn’t ask, just scoops up snow from the ground and without ceremony pulls the neck of Helena’s jackets forward and dumps it down her shirt.

Helena _screams_ , tries jumping up and down, just ends up melting the snow. This is the worst! The worst. The very worst. Also: it’s war. War against Sarah, who is bent over at the middle from laughter. She’s laughing so hard that tears are freezing in the corners of her eyes. Helena reaches out with one hand, finds her shoulder, and shoves her over.

_Whumph_.

Sarah tries to give another offended _oi_ but can’t because she’s laughing too hard. Helena nudges her with her boot. “Sarah,” she says. “You can make a snow angel now.”

Sarah says a couple rude words. Helena wonders if she knows which one is stitched into her hat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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